


of our sins and sorrows

by moonsandstar_s



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:23:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5669203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonsandstar_s/pseuds/moonsandstar_s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alleviation for the bumbleby angst in the 3x8 trailer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of our sins and sorrows

The sun was streaming through the windows, but Yang was cold.

It was a bleakness, a chill inside her very bones, like she would never be warm or happy again.

“You guys believe me,” she said, her voice shaking, “don’t you?”

_Please believe me. Please believe me. Please._

_I don’t even know if I can believe myself._

Ruby was silent, her gray eyes down and on the carpet, one boot feebly swinging against the bed. Blake was drawn up, knees tucked to her chest, like she was holding herself together, her voice soft and sad.

“I want to believe you,” she said wretchedly. “I don’t know if I can.”

“ _Blake_ ,” she whispered in disbelief. It was the broken shell of a word, exhaled in defeat. Because if her bond with Blake was broken then the world was broken and nothing would ever be right ever again.

“I think you should go,” Blake said, turning to Ruby, lines of worry and sorrow carved between her brows. “Just… just for a moment. I need to speak with Yang.”

Yang didn’t even have the energy to protest, dimly hating the prickle of tears in her eyes. She never cried, never had. She’d be damned if she started now— because the mere thought of Blake’s turning against her made her want to curl up in a hole and never come out again. The thought of having no one in this — God, she couldn’t even trust _herself_ anymore _—_ was enough to make her drown in fear.

Blake turned to her as the door clicked shut with a soft, audible _whirr;_ somehow, the sight of her pained amber eyes and worried face was more daunting than standing in an arena while people howled unimaginable curses at her, the whole world turning on her in moments. No, it wasn’t pain in Blake’s eyes. It was betrayal.

A complete blindside.

“Somehow,” Blake said, voice ringing out in the stillness, “if it were anyone else that was claiming what you are, I would dismiss them as crazy.”

Yang swallowed, her chest tightening. “Seems to me that everyone else is doing that already. Calling me crazy. _Vicious.”_

“You’re not crazy, though. If I know you, I know that much. And you’re not lying, either,” Blake asked, eyes searching Yang’s face as if looking for something there. “Are you?”

“No,” she said softly, one hand knotting in the bedsheets. “No, I’m not lying.”

“I can see it in your eyes,” Blake said in confusion. “But I don’t— I can’t understand how you would be _right.”_

“I don’t either,” Yang said, a little desperately. “I don’t understand anything that’s going on right now but I need to know that I have you. That you’ll stay by my side.”

Blake didn’t answer. She turned to the window, sunlight spilling in auburn stripes over her shoulders, illuminating the dark glints in her hair; one hand curled into a white-knuckled fist.

“Promises are all well and good, Yang, but it’s not going to change anything. Not right now. I don’t know how to believe you. This isn’t _like_ you. The idea of you turning your back on me— on _us—_ is like being told that one day, I’ll wake up, and the sun will have burnt out and the stars will all fall to earth. It’s _unthinkable._ I… One of my partners turned into a monster before. And that felt like this does…. Everything he swore that he would not, would never do … the change was so gradual I couldn’t see it until it was too late.” She looked up, her eyes full of a terrible, terrible pain. “I — you’re _different,_ Yang. But so was Adam.”

“I’m not a monster,” Yang growled, standing up and closing the space between them in two sharp strides. “My mother was the monster, not me. I don’t know what happened down in that arena. But I _know_ I wouldn’t attack that boy like you all saw. I know it. I’m asking you to trust my _word_. My word alone, Blake. Despite everything.”

Blake’s eyes flickered, a thousand thoughts coming to life and dying in the amber lights. “If there’s anything I would trust over everything, it is your promises.” She frowned, as if something had occurred to her. “You _wouldn’t_ attack Mercury for no reason, Yang, I know you. You had a motive. What _did_ you see?”

Angered, Yang’s fingers curled in, stinging her palms. “Everyone thinks that I just turned around and attacked him while he was defenseless, but I’m telling you, that is _not_ what I saw. I said ‘ _better luck next time’_ , to Mercury, and I was walking away from the fight when I heard this _voice._ It was close— right behind me, almost. Mercury’s voice. He said, _‘there’s not going to be a next time’…._ and his voice was cold as ice. Menacing. Like having ice-water dumped down your neck. I turned around and he was flying at me with his eyes _blazing,_ like he wanted to kill me for having defeated him. So I punched him out of the air.” She bit her lip hard, tasting blood. “And the next thing I know, I’m being surrounded by Atlas soldiers and…” _And everything’s falling apart._

“I have half a mind to think that you…” She trailed off, biting her lip. The shadows of an idea were darkening her eyes, but she didn’t share.

“They all think I’m a cruel person now,” Yang whispered, the enormity of it crashing down on her. _“Everyone.”_

Blake’s eyes sliced towards her sternly, rooted her in place. Her hands found Yang’s shoulders, giving her a slight shake. “You can’t afford to think that way, Yang. Especially not now. Strength will get you through this, but they’ll tear you to pieces if they sense weakness, got it?” Her eyes flashed; they were angry. _“No._ You’re not vicious. Or crazy. Or lying. If there’s anything I know, it’s that much. You’re Yang Xiao Long. You’re the pillar of this team; the spark; the sun when night is falling. I know you— you, who has read Ruby fairytales when she couldn’t sleep, you, who has carried Weiss out of the arena when she was hurt, you, who have been by my side since we first met— would never do such a thing. And it’s that certainty that persuades me to believe you. I don’t have a clue what’s happening, but I will be beside you through it.”

“You believe me?”

They were almost nose to nose now. “Yes. I do. God knows if it’s wise or not, but I believe you.”

In that moment, Yang took a chance— a chance that couldn’t possibly have a worse outcome than the hell that was taking hold of her now.

Their lips collided, almost painfully; riveting and earth-shaking. Yang tasted all the shattered promises there, on Blake, all the scars and lost battles and tears and heartbreak. Blake’s hands found her hair, curving around the back of her neck as if she might fade away if she didn’t hold on. It was like kissing winter; the coldness, the fear of pulling away, the promise of spring. She could stay there forever, in a beautiful nothingness where nothing existed but Blake and the _now—_

But the world was waiting for her outside the confined walls of these dorms, an ugly world where she was a pariah now, reviled and revulsed. When she pulled away, Blake’s forehead rested against Yang’s, her eyes full of sorrow.

“I can’t do this without you,” Yang whispered, voice cracking. “The thought is enough to give me nightmares.”

“I’ll be here,” Blake swore. “You’re different. You’re honest. That’s the indisputable truth.”

And Yang was scared, of course, paralyzingly so; what tomorrow would bring was all up in the air. But then… she had someone to catch her now when she fell — surely, because it was a _when_ now, not an _if —_ and her hand found Blake’s, tightly wrapping their fingers together, like a lifeline.

“Will you stay with me?”

Blake’s eyes, there, strong and steady and sure, two pieces of autumn. “Always.”


End file.
